One Moment
by Kexerohs
Summary: An Instant Star, Jude drabble. Its just her thoughts about her recording contract and how seven or so years down the road the ways everything changed for her. RR, please.


_**Disclaimer:** I do not own Instant Star, sad as it is. If I did I'd make Jude and Tommy stop dancing circles around eachother and shag up already._

_**Authors Note: **Its like, two in the morning and I couldn't get to sleep. And I just watched Instant Star earlier today, so I thought, why not right a drabbled fanfic on it? This is my first Instant Star fic, so please let me know whatcha think. Its basically just Jude's thoughts and where she ends up seven or so years down the road. I was remembering this book called Guitar Girl while I wrote this, which is kind of what inspired the ending. Hope you guys like 3_

_

* * *

_

**One Moment**

They say sometimes that in one moment everything can change. And despite how much of a cliche it might resemble, I think thats the truth. I really believe that everything can change for the better, or for the worse, in one second. I believe that one second can make or break you. In one moment, with one chance, if you make the wrong choice, it could haunt you for life. But what I don't know is if there's more then just one moment. Could your life take a massive change of pace five times, fifteen times, or even a hundred?

I'm the type of girl who likes to have answers. I need answers, their what I thrive on. Sitting on the sidelines and watching things unfold before me had never been something I was very excelled in. No, I'm more known for going out and attempting to grab what I want by the hairline. But then usually I miss it, sometimes by a mile, sometimes just by a minimal inch. That doesn't really matter though, because my attempts at getting what I want still bite me in the ass. I still most often fail rather then succeed.

I've had plenty of screw ups in the past. But I guess thats what came with the gig, right? They expect up and coming rockstar divas to throw hissy fits, to cry about nothing and to fight about everything. They grew used to my ramblings. To my song lyrics that I could never seem to get just right, all because of some tiny detail I would never pick up on until the last second. But then when I did realize what that tiny detail was, it'd so obvious it was embarrassing.

Its been about ten years since I was awarded the title Instant Star. I have to give the show some credit, they knew what they were talking about when they picked the shows name. Because thats just what I was, an _instant_ star.

My first album sold millions, which was to be expected considering the mass publicity the show had earned. The public loved my songs and they loved me. My firey red hair, my nonconformist style. I had a sweet voice that was the beholder the my innocence and youth. I was just a sixteen year old girl, someone they could relate to. Someone they could maybe, even, look up to. Sure, I made a few mistakes, but that was to be expected considering the bumpy ride I had to face after practically being thrusted into this world of glitz, glamour, and fame.

My second album did better then my first, but that whole year of recording I had recieved so much hell in the end I wasn't even so sure it was worth it all. I dye my hair blonde and the crowds disperse, I'm branded a barbie doll Paris or Britney or whoever clone. 'A total conformist without a sense of style or a mind of her own', one editorial said (Darius and all the people at G minor always told me not to pay any attention to the reviews, because there was always sure to be some bad ones. But its kind of addictive, you know? Like when you find out someones been talking trash about you, and everyone says it'd be better off if you had just never found out about it, but you still can't help but need to know what they were saying about you.), and along with that one a hundred followed.

I had ditched my punk rocker look for a while, instead deciding to go with a more natural, girly look. So what if I wanted to play things up a little bit? Some blush here, a few chunky beads there. Its not like I was the only seventeen year old who had ever changed up her style. But no, because I was _the_ Jude Harrison, _the_ Instant Star, none of those facts mattered. All of these fundamentals that made me who I was meant nothing. All they saw was a sappy looking blondie with some pretty good guitar skills.

Eventually they started to attack my song writing once they had grown bored with the usual, rag on celebrity appearance, crap. The new editorials didn't even compare to the ones before. It got so bad that I could barely read the articles and yet not put them down, all at the same time. Most claimed my writings were full of cliches, that my songs revealed overused emotions and that I was nothing new. Boring, below average, less then par. One read, 'Maybe the toxic fumes from the blonde hair dye have gone to her head, because these lyrics suck', it was all too hard to handle.

Then came my third album, which never made it to stores. This is where the new Instant Star waltzed into the story, the new me. The public loved her, the public hated me. Eighteen years old was apparently too old for a respectable 'pop star'. The tabloids ripped me to shreds. I wasn't pure enough, chaste enough, or all around good enough for them (Yeah, like they knew a whole lot about my chasteness). Tommy Quincy started to produce the spawn of Instant herself, and it turned out working with the devil was a full time job. I guess I sort of just got left behind, though Darius loved my production skills and my way of bringing together a few hit singles. He thought I really had a future, that I was real potential, though whether or not he was just saying thats still questionable.

After those few singles, a few more snares, and a few more snags in the road, I made the biggest choice of my life. I resigned from G Minor. I burned my contract, but not before I ripped it to shreds. It was while I was in the moment of one of those many hissy fits I was keen to throwing while I did this, but in the end it was like this wave of relief had washed over me. At least it was like that for the first five minutes.

Weeks passed, then months, then eventually years. I ended up moving out to this small city, where I signed a really tiny record contract with this rinky dink company, who could barely pay me minimum wage. I didn't have a band, I didn't have my face plastered all over the tabloids. It was just me and my guitar. I played coffee shops, schools close by, small dance clubs. I kept out of the lights, and eventually started teaching guitar lessons in a run down flat I rented that was across the street from my apartment.

I'm twenty five years old, and I'm normal. My hairs its natural red again, though my style is still often varying. But no longer do I have to worry about what I'm wearing being disected by some venting journalist, or having my 'tacky, cliche' lyrics be ragged on. Sometimes I think about G Minor. About all of my old friends, about my old band, and most often, about Tommy. But then I remember all the times he told me to grow up, all of the times he told me to start making decisions for myself, to stop needing him so much. So I did. I moved on, and I'm happy. But that doesn't stop me from running down to the market every now and then, where I find myself buying a copy of the latest rag mag and reading through the gossip columns in hopes of seeing his face.

I've made tons of new friends, and I've even got a steady relationship going with this killer piano player. He's sweet and funny and charming. I've met his family, though I've yet to go back home and introduce him to mine. Mostly because I haven't been home since I left, or at least thats what I tell myself. Though deep down inside I know going back would be too hard because of G Minor, because of Tommy, because of my past.

And even though I know for certain that day I mutilated my recording contract was a huge moment in my life that changed everything, sometimes I still find myself wondering; was it for the better or the worse?


End file.
